


A world of black, white and in-between

by Quelle_heure



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1940s, Artist Steve, I mean, M/M, Nightmares, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, colour blind steve, kinda cute, this is kinda awful, witty banter between two very gay beauties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 09:08:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8156813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quelle_heure/pseuds/Quelle_heure
Summary: Still loving the idea of pre-serum colour blind artist Steve.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is a little crappy thing that i mayyy continue later on in life. constructive criticism is actually much appreciated my pumpkins (its almost October okay?)

“Hey Stevie, what's this?”

“That is a flower Buck. You’re in a park.” Came the sarcastically drawled response. True as this was, Bucky Barnes was dissatisfied with the answer.

“No but what is it? Like what colour?” He continued, still crouched before the seas of irises and daffodils.

Huffing a sigh, the blonde looked up from his sketchbook, tired eyes trying to locate the flower clenched between the fist of his subject.

“It says ‘Bearded iris; known for their vibrant purple and yellow-‘”

“No. Not from the sign, you idiot, what does it look like to you?” Bucky pressed, rising out of his crouch and facing the artist. 

The reply was slow and yet somehow rushed as “I don't know” came tumbling from Steve’s mouth. “Maybe it's a dark browny, greeny, mud colour? I dunno.”

“You're the art student” Buck mumbled back.

Steve’s eyes returned to the rough sketch of Bucky amidst the flowers, thin undetailed lines filling the page in a mess of unprocessed creativity.

“The fuck is that meant to be? Me?” The brunette had suddenly come up behind Steve, pressing into his back, and jabbing a finger at the page.

“Nah, this ain't your style Steve. Take it from me. I've been your muse for years now and this ain't you.”

Steve whipped around, his too-long hair somehow sticking down and covering his annoyed eyes, censoring the frustration. 

“First of all, you are not my muse. Thirdly, this is for an assignment, I'm not meant to do a style I find comes to me naturally. Fourthly, shut up”.

“Hey, you missed point number two! Can you even count?” Bucky quipped back gleefully.

“Jerk”

“Punk” 

Bucky pulled him in now, smiling and fully knowing that he had won.

“I wonder what it's like, seeing the world through your eyes” He whispered, his mouth closing in, getting closer to Steve’s bare skin and teasing him in punishment. “I wonder what it's like, seeing me in a way nobody else can”

Steve broke away from the almost-kiss. “Do you have any idea how vain you are?”

Bucky feigned offence, but cracked a smile as he answered with a “You love it”.

The smile fell away from Steve’s face as his ears picked up a glass shattering ringing that filled his head and threatens it's permanence.

He couldn't hear anything but white noise, the loudest he's ever known anything to be and he's trying to open his eyes but it's too dark and he's too tired and-

His eyes are open. But he hates what he sees.

The late spring sunshine has gone. The green of the park has gone.

And to remind him what else has gone comes the familiar voice demanding “Who the hell is Bucky?”

**Author's Note:**

> shitty plot twist i guess. just when you think its normal, sweet good ol'days


End file.
